Johnny gets Bold
by samaryley
Summary: It was that day that Johnny realized that he was somebody, that he had a worth, a potential all his own. A bit of a literary experiment. Maybe one-shot, maybe I'll continue, with less boldness...


_He's a poor boy- empty as a bucket. _

_Empty as a bucket, with nothing to lose. _

_-from "Diamonds on the Soles of her Shoes," by Paul Simon._

_................  
_

**He **was nine, going on ten, when **he** found the resolve **he** had been lacking for all of **his** years. There was no earth-shattering realization, no epiphany, just the realization that, barring some sort of divine intervention, the situation wasn't going to change, so it was **he** that was going to have to.

It was a shocking thought, the first time that **he** had it. Up until then, **he** had believed that following their rules was, ultimately, what would gain **him** acceptance, or at least some degree of leniency in the beatings that **he** incurred on a daily basis. If I am good, **he **had always convinced **himself**, things will change for the better. It all seemed reasonable; if **he **did what they said, they would be pleased and **he **would be spared their anger and, eventually, what **he **had come to recognize as their resentment.

It only took nine years and ten months to figure out that this was not the way things were going to go, in **his **universe, anyway. It was an altogether novel thought to **him**- not a genius, for sure, but in no way unintelligent, when **he** realized that there might be things out there for **him**, things that, staying cooped up in the house as **his **parents had, since forever, ordered **him** to do all afternoon after school, **he** might have been missing out on.

There was a whole world out there, **he** realized. And there might be other kids, just like **him**, in it.

It was April, one of the first days that it was turning toward being warm, rather than cool, when **he** heard voices outside of the house. Boys, kids **his **own age.

"You threw it, Pony," a boy whose voice **he** recognized from school called out.

"I ain't goin' in there," another voice said. "Go get Darry. He'll get it."

**He **sat up on the ragged old couch and pulled back the curtain, peeking **his** head out, and immediately closing **his **eyes against the bright sunlight. Eventually, **he** felt **his **pupils even out and opened **his** eyes slowly, feeling them shrink down to the size of pencil points. **He** had forgotten how bright it was outside;** his** house was always dark, which was fine with **him**- there wasn't much to look at, anyway.

One of the boys remained, standing in the middle of the road. He kicked rocks from the middle of the road off toward the side. He wasn't one of the kids that gave **him** a hard time at school, but he never took any interest in **him**, either. **He** watched him- the carefree way in which he kicked the rocks, willing them toward the curb, but accepting it just as easily when they had other plans. **He** wondered if there was anything else going on in the boy's mind, or just…kicking rocks? How must that be? **he** wondered. **His** mind had always been filled with so much more. Too much, for a boy **his **age.

A car approached slowly, behind the boy in the road, and **he** noticed how he didn't run toward the side of the road, he just waited until the driver leaned on his horn and sauntered over to the side of the road, never giving the driver so much as the courtesy of a glance. The car sped by, the male driver hurling curse words out the window at the kid as he drove by. But the kid never flinched, didn't run. He just stared.

Nothing about that kid reminded **him** of **himself.** **He** would never have kicked the rocks in the first place, because maybe that would get someone upset with **him**. **He** would have run the second **he** heard that car coming, lest the driver be inconvenienced, in any way, by **him**, being in the way.

But _this_ kid, he had a place in the world. He displaced rocks; he changed things. He didn't step aside for a complete stranger, deferring to someone he didn't even know, for fear of disapproval.

**He** stared out that window, looking at that boy, studying him. That boy wasn't even as old as he was, he was a year or two younger.

That's it, **he** decided. That's who I'm gonna be**. He** knew that being **himself**, the sheltered, scared, subservient **him**, was not who **he** wanted to be anymore.

And, with that thought, **he** set the first brick in the wall which would, until **he** decided it was good enough, grow higher and stronger, separating **him** from the others, **his **mother and father, who held **him** back, held **him** down, held **him** captive.

**He** decided, that day, that **he** wanted more.


End file.
